


A King's Pride

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Fluff, Gen, Oops, This was angstier than I intended, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Regis believes his son is going to be a magical prodigy like few in their family ever have. Or maybe he's just a proud father. But really, how many babies can create fire magic in their sleep?
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119





	A King's Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This was supposed to be 100% fluff. It, um, didn't stay that way ^^;;;;

Regis entered his chambers with a sigh of relief. He wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed. It had been a long day, his attentions firmly on issues local to Insomnia. Food shortages were an issue, the Empire doing its best to cut Insomnia off from its sources. However, the city’s people had taken to growing whatever they could wherever they could, and Regis wanted them to know how proud he was of their efforts. It took some pressure off those on the frontline fighting the Empire’s newest attempts to overpower them. Regis had to keep morale high, even when he himself flagged beneath a tumultuous tide of exhaustion and grief. At least he’d entered into a quiet room. It seemed Noctis had opted to fall asleep early tonight. Though it pained Regis to admit it, a quiet night with his infant son not waking up was really what he needed.

Shedding his outer layers, Regis rolled up his shirt sleeves. His dinner waited for him on the table ahead. His stomach gave an approving gurgle at the meal. Maybe his bed could wait one more hour. Knowing he could trust Ciel with Noctis for a little while longer, Regis sat down, ready to eat.

A sudden cry of alarm from Noctis’ chambers had him running instead. He burst through the door to find Ciel clutching Noctis’ blanket to her chest, her face flushed bright red. “Your Majesty!” She stammered. “I’m sorry! It just took me by surprise.”

Confused, Regis turned to his son’s crib. Noctis slept on, undisturbed by his nanny’s cries or the flecks of fire spinning around his head. They were formless, but they danced around Regis’ sleeping baby with a purpose. Regis laughed. “Ah, I see.”

“They just came out of nowhere!” Ciel said.

“It’s alright.” Regis often created such things to help Noctis sleep – or at least keep him occupied while Regis went to the bathroom and had to leave Noctis alone for a few minutes. Normally he created chocobos or moogles. Noctis didn’t possess such a deft touch.

Yet.

Regis reached out and nullified the magic. His son didn't stir. Smiling, and maybe just a little impressed, he turned to Ciel. "The good news is he won't be able to do any harm." And just about everything that clothed or housed Noctis was fireproof for exactly this reason. He wasn’t the first Lucis Caelum to use magic when he shouldn’t.

Ciel bowed. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, I am unfamiliar with magic and - "

Regis raised a hand. "I should have warned you. Although Noct is perhaps a little younger than I expected." He couldn't deny the thrill of pride that sent through him. The idea that his son could be a magical prodigy was too exciting. It was a light in the dark drudge of Regis’ day. "I sometimes use magic to soothe him when he wakes in the night. An elemental mobile, if you will. It seems to have left an impression."

"He won't accidentally set fire to anything?" Ciel asked. She smiled. "Should I keep an extinguisher on standby just in case?"

“No, he can’t hurt himself. It’s magic in its most harmless form.” At least, Regis hadn’t ever heard of any infants in his family accidentally destroying anything with magic. Perhaps he’d best have some of his academics and historians look into it, just to be safe. He didn’t want to run the risk of his child hitting his terrible twos and blowing a hole in the Citadel’s walls. “Thank you for everything, Ciel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome, Your Majesty. Good night.” Ciel bowed and headed out.

Regis glanced back down into his son’s crib. Noctis slept on, completely undisturbed by either his audience or the magic that had now faded away. Chuckling to himself, Regis headed out to eat, shower and change. Oh yes, he really might have a very gifted child after all.

* * *

Noctis did indeed blow a hole through something in his terrible twos, although it was only a door and he found it so funny he laughed, distracting himself from the fact that he’d been told he couldn’t have another episode of whatever pre-school nonsense he loved to watch. Honestly, Regis had no idea how Ciel endured so much child-oriented entertainment. He made a note to give her a raise just for that fact.

“Boom!” Noctis declared, toddling over to the now smoking hole in his bedroom door. “Daddy! Boom!” He clapped his hands in delight.

“Yes, Noct, boom.” Regis thought it was quite hilarious too, although he still had to hold onto his serious face and put Noctis in time out. The boy had promptly fallen asleep, worn out from both the tantrum and the magic. Regis found war councils less draining.

“And I thought I had my hands full with Gladio,” Clarus said over drinks later that night once Noctis was down for the night. “At least he just threw things. Your kid can blow things up.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” Regis said, sipping his whiskey. “Noctis is too young to train, and yet it keeps happening. It was lightning in his sleep the other week. Ciel said it didn’t hurt, but she couldn’t stop her hand tingling for several hours.”

“I hope you’re giving that poor governess of his danger pay,” Clarus chuckled.

“I am, believe me. She’s also taken a few days of leave to visit her family.” Regis bolted the rest of his whiskey.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re so frazzled!” Clarus laughed. “Childcare.”

“I’ve consulted with our leading academics and they said that early childhood prowess leads to powerful magical abilities later in life,” Regis said.

“Can you really call tantrum-induced-door-blowing-up prowess?” Clarus asked.

“I never managed it,” Regis said. “And neither did my father. In fact, the academics had to go back several generations. Apparently, children in my family occasionally exhibit natural talent but lack the necessary control. I am therefore resigned to many more holes in my doors.”

Clarus leaned back, shaking his head. “I do not envy you.”

* * *

Aged three, Noctis used magic for a very specific purpose.

He froze a bath after a day playing in the snow. After a call from Ciel, Regis found him skating toy chocobos over its frozen, bubbly surface.

Regis had no idea if he should praise his son or berate him for possibly causing damage to both the bath and the plumbing. Plus it was freezing in the bathroom and Regis didn’t need any of them to develop hypothermia.

“Do you think you can unfreeze it?” Regis asked.

Noctis ignored him, skating his chocobos faster and making all manner of sound effects for them.

Regis wanted to test the boy, but perhaps not now. He sent a wave of warmth through the ice, melting it back into a proper warm bath.

“No fun!” Noctis moaned.

“You need to have a bath,” Ciel said. She glanced at Regis. “The snow will still be outside tomorrow, won’t it, Your Majesty?”

“Of course.” Regis picked Noctis off the floor and plucked his hat off, black hair spilling free. “In fact, there will be even more. We’re due to have a blizzard tonight,” he said. “But right now, someone needs to have a bath and go to bed.”

And Regis needed to come up with a plan to manage his three-year-old’s talents. Short of figuring out a way of casting Silence on him for the next few years, he really had no idea.

* * *

“You’re lucky he hasn’t started warping yet,” Cor commented when he stopped by Regis’ chambers to drop off a report, only to see the lights flickering after four-year-old Noctis wielded lightning magic. He wanted to make one of his toys switch on. The battery was flat… until Noctis recharged it. “Looks like he over did it a little.”

“You have no idea,” Regis said. Lightning had set all of Noctis’ toys buzzing, bleeping, talking and walking across his bedroom. And the lights flashed like it was a disco. “No idea at all.”

“Can I try warping next?” Noctis asked, staring up at Cor with a bright smile.

“Please don’t give him any ideas,” Regis hissed between gritted teeth.

“Perhaps when you’re a little older,” Cor said. He didn’t look nearly repentant enough for Regis’ liking.

“Really?” Noctis asked.

“Definitely,” Cor said.

Regis cleared his throat.

Cor finally got the message. “Once you can control your magic and you’re a bit bigger. If you warped right now, we might not find you. You’re just so small and you might get lost in the Citadel.”

Noctis’ eyes were huge. “Lost?”

“You could warp right into one of the Citadel’s vents and we’d never know! Because you’re so much smaller than the rest of us, how could we find you?”

Noctis’ eyes shone. Regis barely resisted the urge to slap his forehead. He wanted Cor to shut up, not scare Noctis out of his mind.

“So, I could find new hiding places?” Noctis asked. “And Ciel would never know where I was?” He bounced on his toes. “I wanna learn how to warp right now!”

“Er –” Cor looked a little lost. He turned to Regis for help.

For crying out loud. Regis crouched down to his son’s level. “Noct, you won’t be learning how to warp just yet. And please don’t keep hiding from Ciel. She doesn’t need the additional stress.”

“Okay,” Noctis said with a long sigh.

“And what did we say about magic?” Regis asked.

“Um, to not use it when I don’t need to?”

“Precisely,” Regis said. “There’s a good boy.”

Noctis would simply have to be trained. Sooner rather than later.

* * *

It all started to make sense after Bahamut delivered the prophecy.

Regis held Noctis tight, his face turned to the rain. What perfect weather for a day like today. Because of course Noctis couldn’t just be powerful. He had to be fated.

Noctis slept on, oblivious to his father’s pain. Regis’ breath shuddered as he drew in a lungful of air, wishing he knew how to quash his agony.

Knowing he never could.

His son would use his talent for magic to save the world.

At the cost of his own life.

* * *

Over the two years of lessons since Bahamut delivered Noctis’ fate, Regis ensured all the training focused on control and limitation. One rule sat at the heart of everything Noctis learned: no magic outside of the training halls on purpose. Noctis did sometimes have the occasional slip up; seven-year-olds weren’t perfect. He was also tempted to push his luck more than once. Mostly though, Noctis was compliant. That was what his tutors said. Regis simply didn’t have the time to teach the way he wanted to. The pressures of the kingdom took him away far more these days. It tore him apart, but if he could end this war, maybe, _maybe_ , he could spare Noctis his terrible fate.

Still, his tutors spoke of the incredible potential Noctis possessed. Power could come when he started training for combat, which he wasn’t ready for. Not yet. Not aged seven, and not when he was still so small. Or so rambunctious. Honestly, the boy could hardly sit still sometimes. Regis had to take pity one rainy afternoon when he received a message from young Ignis stating that Noctis _simply won’t listen despite my repeated warnings that fire is nothing to be toyed with. I have had to leave for my classes, so I wished to inform you, lest Noctis burn something important._

_Toyed with_. _Lest._ From a nine-year-old. Regis smiled. Ignis was quite the prodigy. But he didn’t deserve to suffer. Regis slipped out for a lunch break and returned to his son’s chambers. The tang of magic tickled his nose. Annoyance caught light in Regis’ chest. Noctis knew their magic wasn’t something to… well.. _toy_ with.

Regis opened Noctis’ bedroom door and found his son surrounded by fire. Noctis, back to the door, danced on the spot, giggling as his fire magic danced around him.

Fire shaped like cats. They weren’t massively detailed or artful, but they were definitely cats. Which reminded Regis that Noctis had asked for one for his upcoming eighth birthday. He would have to let him down gently. Or not, given this basic disrespect for the rules.

Regis cleared his throat.

Spinning around, Noctis caught sight of him, his face taking on a look of horror when he realised he’d been caught. His hand swept out and the dancing fire cats faded. “Um.”

Regis didn’t let him go any further. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Noctis stared at his feet, muttering something to his toes.

Regis stared down at him. “If I ask a question, I expect the answer to be audible.”

Noctis rolled up his hands into fists and looked up. He hadn’t quite mastered the fine art of a poker face, but he was closer than Regis expected. Pride and horror warred inside him. Already his child was growing up too fast.

“I wanted to show you what I’d learnt with the Glaives and I had to get it right.” Noctis met Regis’ gaze. “I won’t do it again.”

Only slightly worried the Glaives might be teaching Noctis age-inappropriate magic, Regis crouched down in front of him. “It’s good you want to practice, but you know the rules. They’re in place for a reason, Noct.”

“But I know how to not burn anything, I promise! Not outside the training hall anyway. And that’s only sometimes. I’m getting better at making pictures out of magic.”

Regis felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, a message no doubt summoning him back to the council chambers. He didn’t have time to fully address this, no matter how much he wanted to. “Noct –”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t practice outside the training hall. I’m sorry.” Noctis schooled his face into frightening blankness. “It won’t happen again, Dad. I promise. You should go back to work.”

Before he could reply, or even attempt to talk his child out of such emotionlessness, Regis’ phone rung loudly in his pocket. Dammit. How could he hope to be a father to his son when he had a kingdom to run? Regis never thought he’d fully understand his own father’s actions, but that was certainly changing now. He simply didn’t have enough time to be a father and a ruler, and it meant Noctis’ childhood was already slipping away, crushed beneath training and etiquette.

“I’ll see you later, Dad. Ciel went to find lunch, so I’ll wait for her to come back. And I won’t upset Ignis again.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Regis said, pulling his phone out. “And Noctis?”

“Yeah?”

“You cats were very impressive.”

Noctis’ smile was very small. But it was a smile nonetheless.

Regis walked away, phone pressed to his ear, wishing he could dedicate as much time to Noctis as he did to the country.

* * *

Regis only managed to find Noctis because Ignis sent him in the right direction. Noctis knew the Citadel’s hidden corridors better than anyone. And since their return from Tenebrae, and since his body had healed enough for him to walk again, he frequently disappeared into them. Sometimes he took Ignis with him, other times, like today, he went off alone.

Ignis seemed to believe Noctis had slipped away after his morning session with the Glaives. Regis knew that was why. He’d feared something like this would happen. He’d attempted to shield Noctis from the reality, but now it seemed cruel. Noctis hadn’t walk away from such grievous injuries without permanent scars, regardless of the Oracle’s interventions. The damage went too deep. Regis had hoped that the Scourge wouldn’t have impacted Noctis’ connection to the Crystal.

But it had. Of course it had. And today, his son had come face to face with another new reality.

He would never control magic the same way again. All those years spent limiting his innate talents, and now? Now he’d have to start all over again.

Noctis hadn’t allowed anything to stop him from walking. He wouldn’t let this setback stop him either. Adaptations could, and would, be made. Noctis had fought his way through so much. He would find a way through this too.

But by the gods, Regis wished Noctis could have it easier than this.

Regis moved down one of the ancient corridors to where a storeroom waited. Ignis insisted it was Noctis’ favourite spot because he could look out over the city. And, looking down, Regis spotted fresh footprints in the dust. They led Regis to a doorway. He knocked on it and went in. “Noct?”

The old room was small, stuffed with furniture, and books that had been published in Regis’ great-grandparents lifetimes. He found his son sat by the window, face pressed against the glass, rain trickling past outside. Regis said nothing, just went to sit with him. He could see the tear tracks marking Noctis’ cheeks. His eyes still swam with tears.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t reach out for comfort. He didn’t even look to Regis. He sat there, locked in his misery.

“Talk to me,” Regis said.

Noctis didn’t answer.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence. It was Regis who broke first. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He fought to keep his own desperation and anguish out of his voice. He needed to help his son. He just didn’t know how.

Noctis stayed silent. He was always quiet these days.

Regis reached out, his hand cupping Noctis’ cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Noctis didn’t react.

“Let me help, son. Let me do what I can. You don’t need to be alone.”

The words unlocked something in Noctis. His cold hands clamped around Regis’. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t use magic.”

Regis swallowed his own pain. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t! It’s all stuck inside me. It won’t come out like it used to. I can’t… it won’t…” He pulled back from Regis.

Regis wouldn’t let it stand. He pulled Noctis into his arms, holding him close. “We’ll find a way, Noct. You’ll find a way.”

Noctis clung onto Regis like he’d drown if he didn’t. “I just wanted to make the cats like I used to. But I can’t. I can’t do anything.”

“It’s going to be okay, son.”

Noctis wept.

“We’ll find a way,” Regis said. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Noctis clung to Regis.

“You can do this.”

Noctis sucked in a deep breath. “Okay.” The word wobbled but it was there.

Holding his son close, Regis pressed a kiss into Noctis’ thick hair. “That’s my boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll be over on [Tumblr](http://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com) :D Although just a head's up, it's all getting very FFVII again over there atm...


End file.
